


River

by Blubunn



Series: Road to the Endverse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angry Dean Winchester, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt, Episode: s05e04 The End, Hurt Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:03:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blubunn/pseuds/Blubunn
Summary: Set in the year 2013, Croats have infiltrated the camp. Castiel and Dean have to deal with the aftermath of their attack.Master Artpost





	River

“Cas, get outta there!” Castiel heard Dean yell as he fired on a group of Croats running toward him. A pole had fallen over and just missed landing on Castiel, but his foot had gotten caught underneath it. He tried to roll it off so he could slide his foot out, but when he did, pain threatened to overtake him. Castiel knew he couldn’t let himself faint now with so many Croats still running through the camp. Already, he was being surrounded by a few who noticed he was stuck. He sat there, firing at the Croats began to move in on him. 

“CAS!” Dean cried again, “What are you doing? Fly!” Castiel still made no attempt to move from the pole’s hold on him. He threw his emptied rifle aside and pulled his handguns. Dean watched him spread his arms, both guns in hand, firing when he found a target. He was a good shot, especially with his marks closing in on him. Even in the frenzy, Dean could tell he was working to make each shot count, but he just couldn’t understand why he was staying there. He was leaving himself too vulnerable. 

Dean scanned his eyes over the camp, trying to quickly get an understanding of their position. Plenty of Croats were dead, those who didn’t fight were locked in their cabins, and his soldiers were moving toward each other as each Croat fell. They appeared to be getting the upperhand. Dean turned his eyes back on Castiel, who he couldn’t believe was still just sitting there. The Croats surrounding him were dead, but now he only had his knife out as another group began to run toward him. Dean swore as he ran toward Castiel, firing off his rifle toward the incoming group. “Cas, get up!” Dean yelled at him when he got to his side.

“I can’t!” Castiel yelled up at him. “Give me one of your guns!”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Dean cried when he handed over his handgun. “Just push it off!”

“Later, Dean!” Castiel snapped at him as he fired on the Croats. “Just shoot!” Dean cursed, but focused his attention on the approaching Croats. As more went down, more of his soldiers came to their aid, helping him protect Castiel and supplying him with guns for his side of the circle they made.

Finally, when the last of the Croats went down, Dean called for their med team to come out and check on any wounded and sent another team of soldiers to scout the grounds for stragglers as well as find out where the Croats broke into the camp. When he turned his attention on Castiel, a small group of people were trying to lift the pole enough so Castiel could slide his foot out from under it.

“Cas, what the hell?” Dean asked when he helped Castiel to his feet. “What is it?” He held him up when Castiel stumbled with a shout.

“My foot,” Castiel grunted, draping an arm around Dean’s neck for support after he found standing on his injured foot impossible. “Something’s wrong. I can’t stand on it.” 

Dean looked down at his foot, but he couldn’t tell anything with his boot on. “Let me look at it,” he said, helping Castiel hop over to a bench nearby. “Cas, why didn’t you fly?” he asked once Castiel was seated. He knelt in front of him to pull off Castiel’s boot, being a little more careful after his first tug made him yell. When he got it off, Dean felt along his foot, noting where Castiel seemed to feel the most pain. “It’s broken,” he said, more in wonder than concern. “Cas…” he looked up at Castiel, who was completely avoiding his gaze. “Cas, your foot’s broken. Fix it. You can, right?” Castiel didn’t say anything for a half minute that seemed to span a century between them. “CAS!” Dean shouted at him, watching him wince at the sound of his shout. “Cas, why--”

“He should go to medical,” Chuck interrupted from behind Dean. “They need to see what they can do about his foot.” He pushed past Dean to help Castiel back to his feet. Dean stood by as he watched the two of them, not looking at Chuck when he spoke again, “You can ask questions later.” Dean kept his eyes on Castiel, but he wouldn’t even look at him. As Chuck guided him toward the medical cabin, Dean felt his stomach tightening. He couldn’t understand why Castiel wouldn’t speak to him, or even look at him. His grip on his empty gun tightened as he tried to control himself. He had to believe Castiel would explain everything to him later. If Dean was ever going to start treating him the way he should, now was the time to try.

=============

“You need to at least tell him you’re not an angel anymore,” Chuck whispered after one of the camp’s doctors left to tend to the other wounded. “There’s no way around it now. You heard the doctor. At least a couple months. If you let him keep thinking you’re an angel, you might get hurt even worse.”

Castiel was trying so hard not to cry. He could think of plenty of lies to explain why he wasn’t an angel anymore, but after what happened in the cabin only a couple hours ago, the guilt was eating at him more than ever. Dean said he loved him. All their time together, and Dean finally said it out loud. Even now, Castiel could hear him saying it. Chuck let him have his silence, holding his hand while they sat on the medical cot together. Finally, Castiel breathed, “I...I don’t know if I can without telling him everything…”

“Of course you can,” Chuck started, ready to list the ways an angel could become human, but he stopped. He looked at Castiel for a long time before he sucked in a breath. “Oh, Cas. If you tell him everything,” he looked off to the side for a moment before he started again, “It’s really late in the game for that. He knows the angels are off the table. He knows about Sam. Soon, he’s gonna realize you’re not an angel, whether you tell him or not. If you tell him the truth now, it will only be for you. He’s not gonna take it well.”

Castiel felt the tears come, still doing his best not to let it overtake him. “He said he loves me…” Castiel whimpered, clutching the sheets on the cot. “Chuck, if I don’t tell him the truth, how can I honestly say that I love him too. I know I do. Of course, I do, but...what sort of person keeps all these things hidden from someone they love? I just...I feel so guilty.” Since he became human, he relied on Chuck to help him identify the new feelings that came with it, physical and emotional. He knew it wouldn't change anything, but he felt a pang of resentment that Chuck helped him identify this particular feeling. “I can’t tell him anymore lies,” he didn't need to come up with new ones in so long, “but if I tell him the truth, I know I’ll tell him the whole truth. I don’t think I can only tell him half of it.”

Chuck shook his head, glancing at Castiel with what seemed to be an apology in his eyes. “That’s how humans were built,” he explained. “They have a deep seeded need to be open and honest with the people they love. The pain of not doing that tends to eat them up inside, but, Cas, you have to understand, telling him the truth now will only come from your need to not feel that guilt anymore. For Dean, you’re gonna be pushing your burden onto him. You'll be testing his love for you, his trust. Honestly, I don’t know that he’ll pass that test. Even if he loves you. The fact that he loves you might even make it harder.”

Castiel could feel his heart sinking. His choices were dismal. He could create yet another lie for the man who loves him and who he claims to love in return. Or he could tell him the truth and risk losing everything. “Chuck, I don’t know what to do,” he let out a faint sob.

“You’re stuck between a rock and hard place, Cas,” Chuck admitted. “It’s a very human thing to do. Almost all humans are stuck there at some point in their lives. Thing is, you can’t stay there. Eventually, Dean’s gonna want to know why you couldn’t move that pole yourself. Why couldn’t you fly? Why is your foot going to stay broken? His denial can only take him so far.”

“His denial?”

Chuck laughed as though he couldn't help finding the humor in Castiel's confusion, shaking his head. “Yours too, it would seem. Cas, you have bruises,” he pointed to the marks Dean gave him that were peeking out from his wide collar, “everywhere I imagine. Setting aside that you’re sleeping, bathing, eating, and shitting, I don’t think you’ve been able to hide those, even if you were able to hide all the other cuts and nicks you’ve gotten over the past couple years. If he hasn’t questioned why your body hasn’t cleaned itself off of those yet, he was clearly looking the other way this whole time. You've been really lucky.” Castiel clutched his collar closed, glaring at the bed. Chuck’s laughter faded to an awkward cough. “Look, Cas, you do what you feel like you have to, but you have to be ready for the consequences. Now let’s get you back to your cabin.”

Castiel hesitated, not wanting to go back if Dean was just going to ask him about what happened. “You gotta face the music sometime, Cas,” Chuck said, holding his hand out to him. “The sooner you do, the sooner it’s over.” Castiel looked at his hand with apprehension, but relented. Chuck helped him up and the two started back to Castiel’s cabin.

=============

“Cas?” Dean said when he opened the cabin door, hoping to find him inside. Castiel had been relieved that Dean wasn’t in the cabin when he got there, but now all the color drained from his face. He’d been given a few hours to think about what to say to Dean, but it all seemed to vanish at the sight of him. “Sorry, I wasn’t here,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached the bed where Castiel sat. “I needed to help fix the fence the Croats broke through.” His eyes fell on Castiel’s cast. “Your foot’s still broken,” he observed.

“Yes,” Castiel affirmed, his eyes not moving from his foot, even when Dean sat beside him.

“Cas, what’s going on?” he asked, taking Castiel’s hand in his. “Why aren’t you able to heal yourself? I know you can’t heal other people, but did they take away your ability to fix your vessel too?”

Castiel was silent for a long moment before he murmured in a cracking voice, “It’s more than that…”

“Tell me, Cas,” Dean urged him, pressing his lips to Castiel’s fingers. “If they took away everything that makes you an angel, that’s okay. Being human isn’t so bad. I can help you through it.”

Castiel could feel his heart breaking at Dean’s consideration. He was giving him such an easy out. All he had to do was nod, tell him that’s exactly what happened. His hand tightened around Dean’s. His guilt was eating him up. He didn’t know how he was supposed to be able to live with it, while Dean sat beside him with all his trust, and concern, and love just pouring over him. He once thought he knew what it felt like to drown when Dean submerged him in physical pleasures, but this feeling he had now felt like what the real thing must be like. It wasn’t romantic at all. It was painful. It was terrifying.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, lifting his face to look at him, “don’t hide from me. Talk to me. Let me help you.” That broke Castiel. Everything came out, and he couldn’t stop it. He watched as Dean’s eyes widened. His hand felt so cold when Dean let it go. He felt the air around him get so thin when Dean got off the bed and stepped away, staring at him. When Castiel was finished, there was a wall so thick between them, Castiel felt like his side had no fresh air for him to breathe.

“This whole time?” Dean exhaled, looking at Castiel the way he did when they first met. He was looking at him like he was a monster. If he stabbed him in the chest again, Castiel wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Part of him even wanted it. “You knew about Sam this whole time, and you didn’t tell me? You watched me pray like an idiot when you knew no one was even there to hear it?” 

“Dean--”

“NO!” Dean interrupted, rage twisting his face as everything he had left seemed to be ripped away. “No, you don’t get to talk anymore, Cas. Everything between us...you just…you just…” His hand was on Castiel’s throat before he realized it, pressing him into the bed. Castiel’s tears only seemed to enrage him more. He raised his fist, ready to hit him, wanting it so badly he could feel himself shaking. He watched Castiel shut his eyes to take the blow, trembling underneath him, and Dean just couldn’t. It was only a few hours ago. They laid in this very bed only a few hours ago, and loved each other. Dean was ready to love Castiel properly. The way he believed he should’ve in the beginning. He even said the words. Dean let him go as he remembered that he even said the words. They both did. 

“Dean?” Castiel watched him step away from the bed, his eyes turning away from him now. “Dean, I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t listening. He just rounded toward the door and walked away from Castiel. “Dean, please!” And then he was gone. Castiel laid back in the bed, crying into the quiet cabin, wishing he would come back in here and stab him the way he had when they first met. He didn’t want to live with this pain. It hurt more than his broken foot. It hurt more than he could stand.

=============

Dean never came back to the cabin. Chuck visited Castiel everyday with news about the camp and just to keep him company. He reported that Dean moved into another cabin. It wasn’t too long after that report that Castiel noticed that Dean’s things seemed to disappear after a night. It wasn’t a lot. A few trinkets he had, his clothes, his personal weapons. Everything else, he left to Castiel. That didn’t surprise him. The whole cabin was a bit more ornate than the others were. It was decorated with things Dean found during supply runs that he thought Castiel would like. During the past year, Castiel also brought things that he found to decorate the place. Castiel wished he could’ve caught him the night he spirited away his things. Anytime he was out of his cabin, Dean seemed to make himself scarce, and he really wasn’t in any shape to go searching for him on his foot.

Things seemed to be getting bad in the camp, based on Chuck’s reports. It used to be that anyone infected would be taken away from the camp before they turned. If no one wanted to go with the infected, Dean would go. He confided in Castiel that he would keep them company until they were ready. Some were ready right away, and Dean gave them a mercy killing. Some waited until they turned, and Dean would take them out when they looked ready to attack him. Either way, Dean never let anyone die alone, nor did he kill them in front of the other residents in the camp. Castiel had been startled the first time he heard the gunshot within the grounds, but Chuck came in shortly after and told him Dean killed someone who was infected. People started leaving the camp after that, the ones who couldn’t stomach that sort of practice.

Chuck then informed him that Dean was training up everyone to fight, so they could have a better defense in case the camp ever got broken into again. He had multiple teams going out to find Sam or anyone who would know where he was. He was bringing back demons, and torturing them for information. The camp was becoming more militaristic by the day. More people left after that too, unable to handle Dean’s new expectations for how the camp was going to be ran. So when Castiel was given a clean bill of health two months after his injury, Dean finally approached him.

“Foot’s all healed?” Dean asked Castiel, his face hard and brow knit tightly together.

Castiel shrank a little at how intensely he looked at him, but he nodded. “Yes,” he said awkwardly. “Everything is in working order again.”

“Good,” Dean grunted and shoved a rifle into Castiel’s hands. “Get yourself ready to go. I want you on the next supply run.”

“What--” Dean was gone before Castiel could really try to get more out of him. He watched Dean stalk away from him without another word, and it felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He was just another grunt that worked for Dean now. Castiel’s hands tightened on the gun. He reminded himself why he stayed behind in the first place. He was here to help Dean, with whatever he needed help with. He didn’t turn his back on his family just to act like a jilted lover. He spent two months crying over Dean, wishing he would come talk to him, mourning the loss of him. If this was all he was going to say to him after all this time, then Castiel needed to remember that this was all he intended to be for Dean in the beginning. He turned back toward his cabin to get himself ready for a supply run. 

Before Castiel left his cabin again, he glanced at the decanter Dean brought back from one of his runs to hold his whiskey. He wondered why Dean didn’t take it along with his other things, but considered the memories it held were the very reason he left it. On special nights, he and Castiel drank from it when they indulged in each other. A lot of what he took were more practical than a crystal decanter the two would get drunk from on Dean’s birthday or on holidays. 

Castiel recalled Dean’s hard face when he approached him as he traced his finger over the glass stopper, shifting the bottle. It caught the light just right to pierce through the glass and escape in a multitude of colors that danced on the surface on the other side, pulling Castiel’s attention from Dean to itself. As he watched the colours jitter along the table, he saw in it a promise of better times. All he needed to do to experience it was take a drink. Castiel felt his resolve to be just a grunt for Dean weaken in that moment. He pulled the stopper and poured himself a full glass. He drank it in three swallows, wincing each time at the burn. The bottle was almost empty then, but the warmth began to settle his nerves and soften Dean’s features in his mind. As he drank the last of it straight from the bottle, he wondered if they would be able to find anymore during this run.

Dean was waiting by the trucks when Castiel approached them. He pushed Risa forward as he told Castiel, “Risa’s gonna help you on this run. She’ll tell you what you need to do, and how to delegate. After this run, you’ll be on your own, so pay close attention. I set up the team, and they’ll be ready to follow your orders.”

“You want me to lead the supply runs?” Castiel asked, his mind in just enough of a haze to allow him to manage speaking to Dean without getting emotional about it.

“You’re a good fighter,” Dean growled, as if it annoyed him to say it, “and you’re smart in the field. I’d be stupid to not make use of you somehow. Besides, I want Risa off supplies and I want her to come with me on the next lead I have to check out.”

There was a dull pain in that, but the whiskey seemed to take the brunt of it. “Who’s gonna watch the camp?”

“The camp can watch itself,” Dean snapped. “They’re not babies. Do you want the job or not? I’m sure I can have you cleaning the shitters if this is too much for you to handle.”

“No, no,” Castiel held up his hands, facing his palms out toward Dean. “I’m honored you thought of me.” Dean scoffed and took his leave of Castiel. As he watched him go, Castiel knew that the whiskey helped make this whole ordeal bearable, but he would need more very soon if this was going to be a normal thing. Even if it wasn’t, he was going to need more to be able to handle the memory of this interaction alone. He wondered if more whiskey was really the answer. He could tell by the dull pain in his chest that this might require something stronger than whiskey later. He tried to recall what the doctor gave him at the beginning of his foot injury. He knew if anything would make sure this dull ache didn’t get any worse, those little pills would be the thing to do it.

**Author's Note:**

> River (Card): This is the final card in the community cards. When the dealer reveals this card, it triggers the final betting phase before players must show their cards. In this phase, players have one last chance to either bet or leave the game.


End file.
